As he makes his way through the corridor, a stirring baby at hand, he hears loud voices coming from the waiting room. And fuck it all if he doesn't recognize the loudest one. He picks up his step, not running because you don't run when holding a baby, and gets to the light at the end of the tunnel.

And there she is.

His mom in all her glory— wild black curls, dark beautiful skin, and the standard nurse uniform, stethoscope still hanging around her neck. She would fit right in the hospital setting weren't from the profanities and shouts coming out of her mouth, Daniel feels sorry for the man (who he guesses is the receptionist) blocking his mom's way.

"I'm sorry ma'am but I have to ask you to leave, I will not hesitate to call the cops"

"Fuck you, that's my son in there you piece of shit. You want a reason to call the cops? I'll give you a motherfucking reason, I'll shove your balls so far up your ass that you'll need-"

And then the baby whines and starts to cry. Bummer, Daniel really wanted to hear the end of that sentence. The noise catches his mother's attention and she looks over the man's shoulders to find Daniel holding a baby, in a diaper of unknown origins, swaying and trying to calm it down to no use. Seeing the recognition on the woman's face, the male receptionist moves out of her way, now that she wouldn't enter the doctor's office she is none of his concern. He really doesn't want to find out the end of that sentence.

"Oh, Daniel," she says. And Daniel can't look at her, he puts all of his attention on calming the baby in his arms. But he can't. And he needs her. And he doesn't know he's this afraid until he sees her, really sees her. And now he's heard her voice-- her motherly, understanding voice-- but he can't look at her in the eye. He's more afraid of what he will find there than whatever he's scared of right now.

"Oh, baby," she whispers again, and he doesn't know if she's referring to him or the actual baby. She embraces Daniel, as short as she is, and he has to bend a bit for her to do so. There's still a tiny human bawling in between them, but Daniel feels tears on his own cheeks and can kind of relate with it. The needing someone to comfort you, not being able to be alright on your own.

"How can I take care of her?" He murmurs, and it comes out weak and nasal, but his mom just holds him tighter.

She strokes his hair, "we'll do it together. You're not alone," she reassures him. And god if Daniel didn't feel so small. He's a father now for the love of god.

After a moment, his mom pulls back, finally addressing the subject at hand. The baby is still crying at the top of her lungs, but his mother's gaze is so tender and full of wonder and amazement that one would think the baby is made of gold instead of making them deaf.

"She's... she's gorgeous," his mom breaths. And of course she would think that, why would Daniel even consider she would think otherwise?

"I can't get her to stop crying"

His mom takes her from his arms, with an ease that only comes from practice, and starts stroking her head. She looks at the red hair and Daniel knows she has questions but is keeping them quiet, he's thankful for that, then she looks at her eyes, one blue and one brown, and she really can't stop herself from asking.

"What... what's wrong with her eyes? Is she okay?"

Daniel nods, running the back of his sleeve over his eyes in an attempt at composing himself. His mother's here. Everything's fine.

"Yeah, it's heterochromia. Lack of melanin or something, the doctor said hers was hereditary. I don't know who she got it from though," he laughs, the reality that that's his and Richard's daughter hitting a bit harder.

How in the actual fuck?

His mother nods, still looking at the baby. Then she runs her eyes over its chubby body and throws Daniel a dead glare.

"Why doesn't she have clothes on Daniel? Is cold as shit in here?"

Daniel doesn't get to answer as his mom rushes and makes him take off his sweater, enveloping the baby in it. The blanket and the basket she came in were left in some corner of the school somewhere along all the ruckus, Daniel barely remembers how he got to the hospital, everything happened so fast.

Then his mother is examining the baby, counting her fingers and toes, smelling her diaper. Wait, smelling her diaper?

"She needs a diaper change. Fuck, I should've brought some stuff, but I was so distracted getting out of the hospital and rushing here that I didn't think"

And that's how Richard found them. The baby wailing, people in the waiting area watching and Daniel's mother going through all the ways they could get a diaper, when Richard came in. Panting, and sweating and a thousand bags in hand.

"Thank god you didn't leave," he exhales. He quickly makes his way to them and has to stop to look at Daniel's mother.

She stares back, then at the million bags he's holding, then at his sweaty hair, "so you must be the father?"

The red hair gave him away.

"Other father ma', I'm not the mother" Daniel complains, because he doesn't know what else to do. Richard thought ahead of everything and went to buy supplies? How much more inadequate can Daniel fucking get? He's relieved though, and immensely thankful, because it does feel like he's not alone. At that moment, the fact that Richard is the guy who tripped him when he was getting out of the bathroom last week disappeared from existence. Now he's the guy who holds the key to the baby's comfort, which is top priority. Probably until the day Daniel dies, but no pressure there.

"Oh, shut the fuck up Daniel," tough lovin' his mother gives him. Daniel is completely immune to her swearing by now, what he isn't used to is Richard's amused face as he puts the bags down and offers a hand to his mother.

She shakes it, clearly charmed by the guy already. "The one and only," Richard says, giving her the most charming of his smiles, "the one of two I mean." The joke isn't fucking funny, it really isn't, but Daniel's mother laughs (exaggeratedly so, may he say so himself) and Richard looks awfully pleased with himself.

"Well, I'm Meredith, the grandma, and proper introductions will have to wait because we have a crying baby in our hands and we have to take care of that. Now, please tell me you have some diapers, baby wipes and powder in one of those bags."

Richards gaze falls on the cause of all the alarm and the desire to have her in his arms radiates off of him in waves.

"Yeah, of course," he looks for the items and puts them in a separate bag as he hands them to Meredith, gaze lingering once again on the crying child. "Thank you, for taking care of her when I wasn't here, and for doing it now."

Daniel can't decipher his mother's expression, but it looks awfully close to pity. She takes the bag and gives Richard one of her most loving faces, "She's ours, kid. We'll do this together."

Then she's gone, taking the deafening noise with her, telling them to 'discuss the name and living arrangements. You'll have to sign the birth certificate today.'

That's how Richard and Daniel find themselves sitting in a waiting room next to each other. A million bags at their feet and an uncomfortable silence stretching for way too long.

"Karen," Daniel is the first one to give in. They really needed to discuss this.

"You really want to name our kid fucking Karen?"

Our kid

Daniel shudders.

At least Richard's back to his old self.

"Emily?" Daniel tries again.

He hears a sigh coming from next to him, and shit, he's the only one trying, give him a fucking break.

Daniel slumps down on his chair, feeling his patience give little by little, "Then what? If you're so good at names." He'd never dare talk to Richard like that in school, at least not before today, but now it's different. Like Richard and Ricky aren't the same person.

"Bethel," Richard says after a second. And it sounds so easily said, so confident, that one would think he thought over it for weeks and not in the spur of the moment. Bethel, Beth, Bethy. It sounds right. It kind of bother's Daniel that Richard got it right on the first try.

Daniel ponders over it for a minute, of course he knows what the name means, he just didn't think Richard was one for meanings. "The house of god," Daniel recites out loud, "are you religious?"

He doesn't know why he asks, it's not like he's interested in Richard's beliefs or hobbies or whatever, it just comes out. It's because he's exhausted, he tells himself, getting a baby with your bully out of the blue does that to you.

"No," Richard answers, and Daniel feels him shrugging next to him. "It just fits. Regardless of my beliefs, regardless of whether he exists at all."

And Daniel understands. The house of god. The home of the sacred. The good resides in her. And whether it exists or not is irrelevant, because their good will always be there as long as she is.

"Bethel Davis-Wilson," Daniel confirms, more to himself than anything else. And the silence after that is peaceful and agreeable for Daniel, if not a bit awkward and strained for Richard, but its okay.

Because it fits.